[ii] Messalina & the Bacchantes

Two years passed, Caligula was dead, assassinated by members of the Praetorian Guard paid by members of the senate to remove the deranged Emperor before he had a chance to massacre anymore members of the Roman Aristocracy.

His favourite concubine Helena met her end on her second & final visit to the Carcer. Claudius, the new Emperor, & his wife, the now Empress Messalina, stood in the upper chamber & watched as Helena was slowly lowered through the hole to the waiting Carnifex below.

The concubine had struggled mightily & pleaded desperately to Messalina to intercede with her husband on her behalf. Messalina’s only reaction was to stare back at her, lick her lips & press her upper thighs together under her silk robe as she felt the growing wetness in the cotch of her underwear .

The Empress had closed her eyes & clenched her fists as she listened to the sounds coming up through the hole leading to the Carcer picturing in her mind what was taking place in the execution chamber below.

She had wanted to go down to the viewing gallery but Claudius had forbidden it on the grounds that under his reign that kind of depraved morbid voyeurism would be forbidden.

When the execution was over the Imperial couple returned to their palace, & using a fake headache as an excuse Messalina had retired to her quarters. Waiting for her there was her personal bodyguard, & lover, the Centurion.

After instructing her other guards not on any account to allow anyone else into her rooms she went to her lover, who quickly managed to satisfy the lust raging in her, brought on by Helena’s execution

Another year went by & Claudius had just returned to Rome from a three month trip visiting the Legions engaged in crushing a barbarian revolt in what is now Germany.

At his first meeting with his closest friends & advisors he was appalled to learn of his wife’s serial adultery & general depravity, which apparently had started as soon as he had left the capital.

In the past there had been rumours surrounding Messalina, but the trusting Emperor had ignored them as plebeian tittle tattle. This time the evidence he was confronted with describing his wife’s behaviour was damning & incontrovertible. He issued the inevitable orders

The Empress was by now so brazen in her conduct, despite the return of her husband, that when the soldiers arrived at her private villa in the hills above Rome, & forced their way into her rooms they found Messalina in bed with the Centurion & one of her personal servants.

Because of their lewd & libidinous behaviour these young women & girls were nicknamed “The Bacchantes”, after the Roman God of pleasure & general carousing, Bacchus.

The Empress realised why the soldiers were here & despite her growing fear initially imperiously demanded that they leave her private quarters immediately. The legionnaires stood in silence & stared impassively at Messalina.

The Empress then demanded that she be taken to her husband to explain the situation. The soldiers continued to just stand & stare at her. Her terror growing, Messalina’s demands, became requests & then desperate pleas.

Without a word being spoken, the soldiers went to the bed & dragged the Centurion & the Bacchante from the bed. Resigned to his fate, the soldier didn’t resist. The servant girl struggled & screamed as the soldiers pulled her to her feet.

As a recognition of his service to the Empire, & being all too aware that the Centurion has been little more than a catspaw in thrall to his wife, Claudius had instructed the soldiers to give him a quick death.

The legionnaires bound their former comrade’s hands, took him from the bedroom, to the room next door & made him kneel. A soldier took hold of his hair lifting his head up straight extending his neck. The Centurion closed his eyes & another legionnaire beheaded him with one blow of his sword.

The Empress & the Bacchante cried in horror as the soldier returned to the bedroom carrying the Centurion’s severed head still holding it by the hair. Blood dripped from the neck onto the white marble bedroom floor.

The soldiers ordered Messalina & the servant to get dressed. They marvelled at how one so beautiful & still only twenty five years of age, could be as depraved as Messalina.

The Empresses short black curly hair sat on top of a now terror stricken pure white delicate face, out of which large petrified green eyes stared at the soldiers. Though she wasn’t very tall she had lovely skin & a perfect figure, pert firm breasts stood out above a slim tapered waist above womanly hips & slender toned legs. She tied a white loin cloth covering her shaved nether regions & donned a short purple tunic.

The servant girl was only nineteen & like all of the Bacchantes was breathtakingly lovely. She was a brown skinned Tamil Indian from the east. Her hair too was short black & curly & it hugged her head tightly. The servant girl wept & shook with fear as she pulled on her white loin cloth & a pink tunic which was even briefer than Messalina’s. As they watched the young women dress several of the soldiers could feel themselves getting hard.

The soldiers led the Empress & the Bacchante out into the small courtyard in the middle of the villa. They watched in horror as the soldiers firmly placed two six foot poles in the ground. As she realised how she was going to be executed the Empress finally broke down sobbing & pleading for mercy.
The soldiers marched the two women to the poles & placed them in front of them, facing each other. They pulled their hands behind the wooden stakes & tied their wrists together & wrapped soft leather thongs round their lovely trembling necks tying them off firmly behind the poles. They placed wooden sticks between the hard wooden columns & the soft leather at the back of each pole.

The Emperor had instructed that Messalina be executed by strangulation, his last words being, “Take your time about it”.

The officer in charge of the soldiers was sure that Claudius will be pleased when he learns of the unexpected bonus opportunity the presence of the Bacchante had provided

A soldier stood behind each pole & took the sticks in their hands. Messalina gasped as she felt the leather tighten round her neck as the soldier gradually twisted the stick pulling the thong tighter against the flesh of her throat. Once it was at the stage where the Empress was beginning to have difficulty breathing he stopped turning the stick & waited.

The Bacchante was to be garrotted first as Messalina was forced to watch, the leather constricting her neck, in terrified contemplation of her fate, waiting for the thong to remorselessly tighten & slowly strangle her.

The soldier behind the servant girl gives his stick a slow half twist, her brown eyes open wide as she feels the increased pressure on her neck. He continues gradually to turn the stick & the Tamil girl begins to pant & gasp for air.

The Bacchante arches her back, pushing out her the shapely breasts against the pink top of her tunic & starts to kick, the pumping of her firm brown thighs exposing the white loin cloth underneath the short pink tunic.

Her head moves from side to side, face darkening, eyes beginning to bulge, tongue slowly emerging from her widening mouth. The soldier stops twisting the stick, prolonging the Bacchante’s suffering.

The Empress looks on in terror at the agony the girl is being put through, knowing that she will be next. The leather noose prevents her from crying out, All she can do is gasp & whimper her pleas for mercy.

After, what seems to Messalina a very short time, but to the servant girl must have felt like an eternity, the officer nods to the soldier & he gives the stick a final hard turn. The Bacchante’s muscles suddenly tense, her entire body shudders & she dies

The Empress stares in petrified horror at the almost black, puffed & swollen face of the once beautiful Indian girl. The Bacchante’s protruding blood shot eyes appear to Messalina to still be desperately beseeching, someone anyone, to put an end to her agony

The officer nodded to the soldier standing behind the Empress & he started to slowly twist his stick. He ensured that Messalina took twice as long to die as her servant. Finally the Empresses dead body sagged against the pole, her once lovely white face was now purple, her exquisite features horribly distorted by the effects of the very slow & agonising garrotting

The soldiers left the villa taking Messalina, the Centurion & the Bacchante’s remains with them. When they reached the banks of the Tiber, they stopped & one of them cut off the former Empress’s head & put it in a sack. The remainder of the bodies they threw in to the river.

They then continued their descent down to Rome carrying with them the grisly evidence of Messalina’s execution

Claudius looked impassively at his former wife’s head when wat is held up by the hair before him & nodded in satisfaction as the soldiers recounted the full lurid details of her execution.

The Emperor looked at the head of his Praetorian Guards & asked. “What of the other Bacchantes?”.

The soldier replied. “We have them in custody Ceasar”.

Claudius mused a moment & then ordered what was to be done with them. He finished by quoting Ulysses’s speech in the Odyssey when he took vengeance on Penelope’s wicked maidservants;

Then thus the prince: “To these shall we afford
A fate so pure as by the martial sword?
To these the nightly prostitutes to shame
And base revilers of our house & name

The next morning the remaining twelve Baccahantes were taken from their cells, hands tied behind them, & led out to the prison yard. Though somewhat dishevelled the young women were still delicious to look at, their brief tunics barely concealing their firm lithe young bodies.

They started to shriek & wail when they saw what was before them. The Emperor had ordered that a huge ship’s cable be pulled taut between the walls of the prison & twelve noosed ropes dangled from it.

On the ground below stood a two foot high long wooden bench which stretched out below all of the twelve ropes. The two masked Carnifex whose grisly business was normally carried out in the depths of the Carcer stood arms folded, coolly assessing their latest batch of victims.

The prison guards, two to each Bacchante, forced them up on to the wooden bench, & one of the executioners, using a set of steps, worked his way down behind the line of sobbing, shaking girls & placed the nooses round their necks, ensuring in each case that the ropes were pulled tight to the skin.

Once all was ready the guards withdrew & the Carnifex moved to either end of the long wooden bench.

On cue Claudius, his small retinue of advisors & four Praetorian guards emerged from a door in the prison wall. The Emperor noted with approval that his instructions had been followed to the letter.

He looked at the Carnifex & dropped his hand, the executioners kicked away the wooden bench & the nooses snapped even tighter around the young women’s necks.

They gasp & begin to struggle, kicking out forward & backwards. Some Bacchantes try to free their hands to loosen the killing ropes around their necks but the bonds are too tight.

They start to dance, first reaching down with one leg but not finding any support, then the other, again & again, hips bucking, backs arching.

As the air in the Bacchantes lungs grows stale, they begin to thrash about wildly, kicking out in all directions, sometimes hitting each other’s legs.

One of the girl’s accidentally discovers that she can get a moment’s respite by pulling her legs up to her chest, totally exposing the hairless shaved pussy beneath her brief tunic, & thrusting down hard.

This propels her body into the air & she is able to snatch a quick breath, but when she falls back down she jerks the rope even tighter around her own neck, & also the necks of the other Bacchantes.

Two of the other girls try to copy her & two more shaved pussies are clearly displayed. It is a doomed struggle. It takes more energy than the poor girls have to keep up for very long & the effort required even more air, so they got further & further behind in their efforts to breathe.

Soon all of the girls struggling grows slower & gradually reduces to a trembling motion of their limbs, feeble twitches & spasmodic fluttering of their feet.

A minute later they all hang limp, glazed eyes stare sightlessly out from crimson red faces which grow slowly purple, tongues protrude slightly from some mouths & from others they loll out up to a good couple of inches.

Having had the Bacchantes strung up twelve in a row in truly Homeric fashion Claudius quoted once more from the Odyssey

“They twitched their feet awhile, but not for long”

Once she had completed Rome Alyssia went to the couch where she put her newly purchased vibrator to glorious use

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